


A Hollow Heart

by shootingstarcipher



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Knifeplay, M/M, PWP, Smut, Violence, fireplay
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 12:22:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8445679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shootingstarcipher/pseuds/shootingstarcipher
Summary: After waking up from a nightmare, Dipper thinks it can't get any worse.As always, Bill is determined to prove him wrong.





	

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be a Halloween Special one-shot but a) I didn't get it finished in time and b) it's getting so long I thought I'd split it up and make it a two-shot.   
> Anyway, I hope you like it~

Cold. Freezing, really. And numb. He was cold and numb - much too cold to be the middle of summer, even though he was certain it was, and even though it was the middle of the night. Just before midnight. Above, the now murky sky had turned from a clear blue to a hazy purple, dark, with only a few silver stars dotted about the vast expanse and nothing else providing light - not even the moon was able to shine its light through the thick clouds covering the majority of the sky.

But down here in the freezing cold water, Dipper didn’t have the chance to pay any attention to the sky or the lack of light, no matter how aesthetically pleasing his surroundings were. To begin with, he was gasping for breath, struggling to take in any oxygen even though he was panting heavily to the point where he was over-breathing, having only just managed to swim to the surface. Still in the water, his entire body shivered, chills running up and down his spine but he could hardly tell they were there, his body already too numb and too overcome with the coldness of the icy water to feel anything.

Safety wasn’t far away. In spite of his constant shivering, he was able to swim to the rocky side without struggling too much. The problem arose when he reached the side and found himself unable to pull himself up due to the cold having bitten away at his fingertips. He clawed at the earth, digging his nails in but ultimately failing. It was then, after many attempts at pulling himself up out of the water - each of them failing and each even more exhausting that the last - that a sudden wave surged forwards and wrapped around him, gripping him with its icy touch and dragging him backwards, throwing him back under the water.

It was all black. He squeezed his eyes shut as the water filled his lungs, wishing he could splutter and rid himself of the dark, grimy water he was continuously breathing in. It felt as if his body was on fire - a cold, freezing fire that numbed him to his very core. It was numb, but it was still painful. His clothes were drenched and heavy, pulling him further towards the bottom of the seemingly endless abyss of suffocating darkness.

Then there was an overwhelming sensation of air filling up his lungs, the water suddenly disappearing, and he almost choked on it. His eyes flew open automatically. No water. No unrestricted stretch of blackness. It was dark, but he switched on the light beside him and the room lit up immediately, revealing the familiar cobweb-ridden attic room he’d fallen asleep in.

A nightmare, he assured himself. It was just a nightmare. There was no water clogging up his lungs, forcing out the oxygen. He wasn’t cold, he wasn’t soaking. He was just… himself. But he was scared and spluttering, still shaking from the shock of drowning - although, of course, he hadn’t been drowning at all.

After finally stopping shaking, his breathing slowing and his heart returning to its normal pulse rate, he took a deep breath and silently slipped out of bed - though his heart jumped into his mouth again as his bare feet came into contact with the cold wooden floor below even though he’d been expecting it. Mabel was snoring softly in the other bed, blissfully unaware of her brother’s fear. If he’d been braver, he would have checked under his own bed for the fabled monster that - despite him thinking himself too old to be afraid of - he couldn’t help being cautious about. Considering the large number of supposedly fictitious creatures he and his twin sister had encountered over the last couple of months, he wouldn’t have been surprised to find out that there really was a monster that resided under the beds of fearful children.

Brushing his fear aside, he hurried out of the attic room and - still trying to stay as quiet as possible - he crept down the wooden staircase leading to the first floor of the Mystery Shack. He needed to use the bathroom. It was frustrating - the discomfort so great he wouldn’t have been able to go back to sleep without relieving himself first but being afraid to get out of bed due to his nightmare. But his bad dream wasn’t the only thing that was acting as a catalyst for his fear. He wasn’t usually afraid at Halloween, but after being chased, hunted and almost murdered by a monster like he had done only a few hours earlier in a strange, eerie little town where most of the time he felt completely alone… That was different. Now he was scared.

But his trip to the bathroom went without a hitch and even though he was constantly on edge, always expecting something to jump out at him from the shadows, he was able to slip back into bed without anything truly terrifying occurring. Strangely enough, he managed to get settled into his bed again surprisingly quickly. The warmth soothed him and he pulled the blanket over his head, covering him completely. He had just closed his eyes when what he’d been afraid was going to happen, happened.

His blanket was thrown off his body, leaving him vulnerable to the cold air around him. A hand, warm and clawed, scratched at his face, finally settling on grabbing at his hair and pulling his head up. He opened his eyes instantly but only succeeding on catching a glimpse of golden hair before a thick strip of black fabric was placed over his eyes and wrapped around his head, becoming tied in a bow at the back as it obscured his vision.

His breath was caught in the back of his throat and he felt like choking on it. He opened his mouth to scream, hoping he’d wake Mabel up or even Stan, but another warm hand clamped down over his lips, silencing him. Acting on instinct, Dipper forced his lips to open and bit down hard on the hand pressing on them but to his dismay (as well as confusion), the only response he received was a soft, throaty moan. By this point, he realised he may have been dreaming, though he wasn’t sure why he’d be dreaming this; he assumed it had something to do with the dream demon that had been tormenting him since he arrived Gravity Falls.

And he was right. It did.

But it wasn’t a dream this time. Drowning, yes, that had been nothing more than a nightmare. But this? This was real. Completely real.

Fingers peeled back the blindfold slowly, pulling it back so that although it was still tied behind his head, he was able to see only part of what was going on. It was still difficult to catch hold of even tiny scraps of information based on what he could see, however. Blond hair, a golden eye and a missing one. An eyepatch covered where the right eye should have been. A familiar face and - Dipper soon found out - a familiar voice as well. The boy lingering over him now was a regular in his dreams but this was no dream.

After no more than a second or two, the fingers let go of the blindfold and it snapped back into place, obscuring his vision again. But then he spoke, letting Dipper know he was. Even if he hadn’t recognised his voice, no-one else used that goddamned nickname. “Don’t be so scared, Pine Tree,” the blond practically cackled, his voice just as shrill as always. His breath was hot against Dipper’s neck, proving just how close he was to him. “It’s just a bit of Summerween fun. That’s what you kids like, isn’t it? Fun?”

Immediately recognising his identity, Dipper gritted his teeth angrily in response and all of his nervousness and uncertainty suddenly drained away, fading into anger. His hands curled into fists by his sides and he growled instinctively. “This isn’t fun for me!” he snapped, knowing full well that Bill was already aware of that fact.

“Well, it’s fun for me,” the demon retorted slyly. Dipper was sure he was smirking, even though he couldn’t see it. “You know, kid,” he started, leaning down and giving the brunet’s neck a few quick licks with his tongue. “This would be a lot more fun for you if you’d just loosen up a bit.”

Dipper didn’t reply because he knew that was true. Based on the dreams he’d already had revolving around a scenario similar to this one - usually without the fear and the blindfold - he knew he’d enjoy it if only he let himself, but how could he, knowing who he was with? And with Mabel across the room from him? What if she woke up? 

Still smirking, Bill interrupted his thoughts, clearly having read his mind. “Quit worrying, kid. She’s not there. I knew you wouldn’t relax with her around so I moved her away. She’s safe, alright? So calm down.” He paused, letting his words sink in, before adding, “By the way, Pine Tree, this isn’t a dream. I stole this body from your thoughts - thanks for drawing it, kid, and in such fine detail too.” Dipper swallowed nervously in response, thinking back to his dreams. He hadn’t meant for this boy - this imaginary, nameless body - to look so much like Bill, but he had to admit that it really did suit him. And then he’d made the mistake of drawing it. On paper. And not immediately burning it.

He immediately regretted thinking of fire, especially when Bill seemed so excited by the thought of it. “You want to burn, Pine Tree?” the demon purred, pressing down on his body with his own as he leaned in to whisper in Dipper’s ear. “You want me to burn you? That can be arranged.”

Dipper shivered - half in response to his hot breath and half in fear. No, he absolutely did not want to be burned. Not by Bill Cipher. Not by anyone. He couldn’t think of anything worse. Even drowning in icy water was preferable. “N- No,” he stammered, barely able to force the words out. “No, I don’t. I want you to go. I want you to leave me alone.”

The pressure pushing down on his body was suddenly released and he felt as though a weight had been lifted - literally. But he couldn’t see what was going on now and that was even worse - at least if he’d been able to feel Bill pushing down on him he would have known how close they were to one another, and at least part of what the demon was doing, but now he knew absolutely nothing. There was the rustle of disturbed clothing and a short waft of cold air hit his face, but that was it. And then his wrists were being grabbed at and clawed at, beads of blood bubbling to the surface as the blond’s nails dug into his skin. He tried to fight back, flailing his arms as best he could but he knew there was no use in resisting.

Bill would get his way in the end. Bill Cipher always got his way.

The demon chuckled at him in response to his pathetic attempt at fighting him off and easily overpowered him, pinning him to the bed and holding him by the wrists. Letting go with one hand, he clicked his fingers and Dipper felt something coiling around his wrists - something cold, something metal. His arms were suddenly forced above his head, colliding with the headrest behind him, the chains around his wrists connecting him to it, confining him to the bed. As always with Bill Cipher, there was no escape.

His body was pushing down on him again, this time the demon’s now bare legs brushing against Dipper’s. Beneath him, Dipper gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut tightly even though the blindfold had destroyed any chance of him seeing what was happening already. He was determined not to let his innate desires get the better of him. Maybe it was a good thing he couldn’t see as if he had been able to, he probably he would have found it even harder not to give in. His mistake was realising that.

Still breathing heavily on the brunet’s throat, Bill reached up and pulled Dipper’s head towards him, lifting it up from the pillow as his fingers busied themselves with untying the blindfold and discarding it. He smirked down at him as he did it and this time, Dipper saw. And he immediately caved in.

Not entirely though. He still hated the way Bill was making him feel, the feeling of the familiar pressure building up in the pit of his stomach in that all too familiar way. But what he hated most was the fact that Bill Cipher was the one who was making him feel this way.

The feeling of the demon’s tongue licking at his throat again made his hostility melt away momentarily. He bit down harshly on his lower lip to quieten the moan that threatened to force its way out from his throat but even then, even as he lay there in almost total silence, the glimmer in Bill’s golden eye suggested that he knew precisely what was running through his mind. He tried to stop it. He tried to block out the thoughts with his mind, knowing it was wrong to be thinking them especially in a situation like this and especially when the focus of those thoughts was a monster he believed he hated more than anything else in the universe. But he couldn’t fight it for very long.

With a smirk, the demon pulled away from him again, gazed directly into his panic-stricken eyes for no more than a split second and then clicked his fingers, a small black lighter appearing in his hand. That’s when Dipper’s heart started to slam against his ribcage again. His eyes darted about in alarm, searching for something - anything - to focus on. As it turned out, Bill hadn’t lied. Mabel really was gone. Her bed was empty, the sheets disturbed. But that realisation brought about even more panicked questions he wasn’t sure he really wanted answers to.

Now that the blindfold had been removed, Dipper could see that it lay on the floor between the two beds along with a heap of the blond’s discarded clothing: the long black jacket and the velvety trousers, as well as his socks and boots. He only fixated his gaze on Bill again when he heard the felt a sudden surge of cold air biting at his now exposed torso, now that the demon was peeling back his shirt to reveal his milky white skin.

His shirt was bunched up around his neck by the time he stopped and the blond lowered his head to nibble on the milky flesh of his stomach - almost gently - for a moment before looking up at the younger with a devilish grin. The lighter, which he was gripping with his left hand, was suddenly brought closer to the boy’s stomach and it ignited within seconds. Too close. Dipper squirmed as he tried to move away, his instincts telling him to thrash his body about in attempt to push the demon away while the voice of reason screamed at him to keep calm. Too much movement would only bring him closer to the ominous-looking flame that was already only millimetres away from his skin.

“Oh, come on, kid. I expected better from you,” Bill laughed at him, forcibly pinning him down with his free hand to hold him in place. “You’re so… terrified. And of a tiny little flame too. I thought you were better than this, Pine Tree.” Holding him still, he tipped the lighter upside down and held it even closer to him than before, gaze trained on Dipper’s face as he admired the expression he had when he finally felt the flame lick at his flesh. It was only for a fraction of a second but it hurt. It hurt like hell and he practically screamed. Bill, on the other hand, screamed in delight.

It was then that the blond let go of him and, burning his flesh again for a few more seconds with the lighter, Dipper saw him slip his hand between his thighs and palm himself through the fabric of his underwear, a sharp gasp escaping his lips in reaction to the contact. He repeated this process a few times - far too many for Dipper’s liking. Holding the flame against different parts of Dipper’s body - Dipper yelping and squirming helplessly in response each time - and constantly touching himself while he did it.

Dipper’s eyes were bloodshot, his cheeks tear-stained and his voice barely audible. It felt as though his wrists, legs and stomach were charred, blackened by the demon’s malicious actions. Agony wasn’t the word to describe it. In fact, he was sure no word could describe the amount of pain he was going through. And then there was the other contributor to his never-ending discomfort - the way his body was reacting to Bill’s appearance and the rough licks he gave his skin. With his hands tied to the headrest behind him, he was unable to release any of the pressure building up in the pit of his stomach. And he guessed that was exactly what Bill had planned.

Eventually, Dipper managed to alter that plan. 

“Aren’t you bored of that yet?” he asked, his voice croaky and his words barely coherent in spite of his efforts to come off sounding casual and nonchalant. Bill froze then, the lighter an inch away from the younger’s exposed thigh, and stared at him with a narrowed eye, wary of his sudden change in disposition. The possibility that he was trying to outwit him entered his mind momentarily but was instantly drowned out by his boundless narcissism - finally, after all this struggling, Pine Tree was giving in to him, a superior being. “I mean,” Dipper continued, oblivious to the demon’s thoughts. “There are other ways you can hurt me, if that’s what you’re after.”

At this point, Dipper was fairly confident that he could trick him. He didn’t know how practiced the blond was when it came to sexual experiences but he guessed he couldn’t have had any more experience than himself, and so he was able to estimate what the demon’s reaction would be if he were presented with any more arousing material. Lust would take over. It was already taking over him and he was sure Bill couldn’t have been far behind.

The lighter’s flame disappeared and the blond clicked his fingers, magically causing the small black lighter to vanish. The demon looked thoughtful for a moment and then his golden eye seemed to light up with a sudden flash of inspiration and in his hand, where the lighter had once been, appeared a knife. With a golden handle, a silver blade and jewels adorning the top of it, the small yet threatening dagger was strangely elegant and beautiful. Dipper couldn’t help thinking how ugly it would look once it was caked with his blood, which was undoubtedly what was going to happen.


End file.
